Starry Night
by lokilette
Summary: Gellert Grindelwald has been alone in Nurmengard for decades, and he's running out of excuses to stay alive. What does he have to live for anymore? Like Van Gogh, he's trapped, looking up at a starry night debating if there's really anything left to hold on to. One-shot. Trigger warnings inside.


**Trigger warning:** Self-harm, depression, and suicidal ideation.

 **Author's Note:** Prompts are listed at the end (there's a good number of them). I played with the idea of "Starry Night" being about both life (the peaceful, idealistic village) and death (which is what cypress trees used to represent in art) and the similarities that Gellert has to Van Gogh. There are also several instances where actual quotes by Van Gogh are used (namely, the two bits in quotes during Gellert's section), so those words/ideas belong to him. Johan Albert Grindelwald is an OC that appears first in "Living for the Greater Good," and due to my prompts, I decided to bring him back for this. So read that if you want to know more about him. :)

 _ **Reviews are love and are rewarded with cookies.**_

* * *

The snow-covered grounds made the whole scene look like something out of a fairy tale. There was even a tower and everything, but the person locked in it was far from a princess. It was just an old man who had thought he could change the world. Turned out, the world wasn't ready for change. It never was.

He shouldn't be there. That's what everyone thought, at least, whether they said it or not. But Johan wasn't ready to give up just yet, not on the man and not on his ideals. Gellert Grindelwald _had_ changed some things and for the better. In the life of a man, even a Dark Wizard, sometimes that was all that mattered.

 **...oOo...**

" _There is hope there, but that hope is in the stars. But don't let's forget that this Earth is a planet too, and consequently a star, or celestial orb."_

 _._

Gellert drew the sharpened rock across his pale, ashen skin. As the first drops of blood blossomed, the rough outline of what promised to be a masterpiece, he smiled. He needed the release more than he'd ever needed anything, more than a drug, and his body shook as he traced another crimson line across his wrist.

It was the only reminder he had anymore that he was still alive, and it offered him a brief splash of color against the gray backdrop that had become his life. If that's what one could call rotting away in such a hellhole, anyway.

How easy it would be to cut too deep, just once, and watch his cares spill out into the world. Funny how he'd spent his youth chasing after some fleeting illusion of immortality. Old age had come too fast and wisdom all too slow. Now, he would gladly greet Death like an old friend, and then punch the bastard for taking so damn long.

What did he have to live for anyway? Nothing. That's what he wanted to say, but there was something—a memory—niggling at the back of his mind insisting it wasn't true.

 **...oOo...**

 _He shouldn't be there. Everything in him screamed it. He had so many better things to do. He was at the forefront of a damn social revolution, for Merlin's sake. There was no time to be wasted on infants._

 _Yet, there he was, rapping on the Steins' door, feeling like a right fool. A minute later, it opened to reveal a round, portly woman about his age._

" _Oh! Gellert. I wasn't expecting you. Please, come in." Berta threw the door open wide and ushered him in. "Here to see Johan, I suppose?" Before he could respond, she continued, "Yes, of course. I'll fetch him."_

 _Why did he even care? He'd saved the child. Wasn't that enough to assuage his conscience? Did he really intend to suffer through countless visits, and for what?_

 _Berta reemerged a moment later with Johan, contentedly sucking on a teether, in her arms. Gellert tried to turn away her advances, but regardless of his attempts, he somehow ended up with a squirming bundle of stickiness in his arms. One pudgy fist clamped on to the teether, and the other clasped a fistful of Gellert's hair with a death grip._

" _The adoption is official now. Took quite a bit of help from Albus, of course. Merlin knows how he did it, but he did." Berta bustled around the kitchen as she talked, flicking her wand in different directions as she went. The dishes in the sink promptly began to wash themselves, and the broom in the corner sprung to life and waltzed along the floor. "Adolph and I couldn't be happier. We've always wanted to be parents, as you know."_

" _I suppose he's Johan Stein now, then?" Gellert asked, trying to wrest his curls free. All he succeeded in doing was trading them for two fingers, which Johan immediately latched on to and, much to Gellert's dismay, attempted to suck on._

" _No, no. His name is Johan Albert Grindelwald."_

 _Gellert wasn't sure how to react. It was true, he found the child and saved it from being crushed under the rubble of what once had been its house—an action he might yet come to regret, it seemed. Still, the idea of passing on his surname, of having a Grindelwald heir..._

" _We considered changing it. Honestly, we did. But you know Adolph. Can't stand the Steins, really. Said he'd rather take the name to his grave, which is just him having a tantrum, if you ask me. He has two brothers, so it's not like the Steins will go extinct. Besides, Johan just seems like a Grindelwald, doesn't he? I'm telling you, Gellert, that child's destined for great things, just you watch."_

 _Great things? This thing that drooled and pooped all over itself hardly seemed to fit the description of one destined for such a grandiose future. But, Gellert supposed, everyone started somewhere. Even he, at one point in time, was a useless child himself. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was some truth to what Berta said._

 _As if reading his thoughts, Johan flashed a gummy smile and then laughed in the comedic, bubbly way that only infants could pull off. Gellert grinned despite himself._

I can't wait to see what greatness you possess, Johan Grindelwald, _he thought as he looked at the giggling child._

 **...oOo...**

Gellert heaved a sigh, raising the stone to his wrist again, but something gave him pause, just for a second. He dismissed it and dug into his skin, gritting his teeth against the initial bite of the rock. The pain felt familiar, like an old friend. This was something he could control, some small aspect of his life that was still his.

He glanced at the wall behind him, painting it red as he ran a trembling finger over the slogan he had carved into the wall after his first year in Nurmengard.

 _La tristesse durera toujours._

The sadness will last forever.

No, not forever, as Van Gogh himself had proven on his death bed. Only so long as you let it. Only until you decide to cut it out of you. What did he have to live for anyway? Johan was an adult now, and it had been decades since Gellert had seen him. The world kept on spinning like he had never been a part of it.

He had always told Johan that the true measure of a man was the company he kept. Now, the only visitors he had were the stars, the shadows, the cold, and an occasional bug. What did that say about him? There was no one to miss him. Dark Wizard Grindelwald had died, as far as the world was concerned, in 1945, whether he lingered on or not. It would be so simple to fulfill that expectation, and yet...

Gellert set the stone down on the floor beside him.

 **...oOo...**

 _Gellert barely made it in the gate before he was nearly bowled over by the five-year-old that latched on to his waist. He could've sworn Johan was bigger than the last time he had visited. The boy wasn't just growing like a weed; he was blossoming into the talented wizard he was meant to be._

" _Forgive me for missing your birthday."_

" _It's OK. Mutti said you were out saving the world, and you're here now."_

 _Saving the world? That was one way to put it. More like saving Muggles from themselves. The Germans had already rolled into France and were devastating the British, and that wasn't even the most disconcerting part. The news from abroad was grim. If he could believe what he heard, the Americans were working on a bomb that had the potential to change the course of the future, as well as to decimate the planet if used inappropriately, and Muggles always used things inappropriately if given the chance._

 _"Well, hopefully this is enough to make up for my absence," Gellert said, returning his attention to the wide-eyed child in front of him. He extricated what looked like a long, slender piece of bark from his robes. "Every great wizard needs a great wand, Johan. This used to be mine. Happy birthday."_

 _The gray eyes lit up, and when he could contain his excitement no longer, Johan jumped up and down and laughed._

" _Do you mean it? My very own wand?"_

" _If it'll have you. Wands have minds of their own, and this one in particular is quite stubborn."_

 _Johan's demeanor sobered, and he took on the air of someone much older as he glared at the wand with stoic determination. He wanted it badly, and he was the sort to rise to an occasion. There was no doubt in Gellert's mind that the wand would be his._

 _Johan reached out with jerky movements, seemingly unsure whether or not he could pass the test. With one last determined lunge, he wrapped his fingers around the wand, avoiding the three thorns, and held it in front of him. Magic immediately sprung forth, staining the sky with sparks of colors. Johan swished the wand around as if he were painting a portrait._

" _Teach me a spell? Please?" he asked through his laughter._

 _How could Gellert say no to such eagerness, such thirst for knowledge? He drew his wand._

" _Just one, for now. If you can master it, I'll show you another. Swish and say 'Verdimillious'." Gellert demonstrated the spell, and a stream of green sparks flew out of his wand, crackling and hissing in the air._

 _Johan knitted his brow and focused on emulating the motion, but all he managed to do was make the tip of his wand glow green._

" _It'll take practice, but once you have that, you can manipulate the spell in many other ways. The only limit is your creativity."_

 _Gellert cast a non-verbal Verdimillious as he swished his wand in a circle. At its tip, a ball of green light pulsed as it grew with each rotation until Gellert flicked his wand and sent the spell flying across the lawn. The orb hovered there for a moment, casting an eerie luminescence on the yard, before exploding in a tidal wave of wind and color._

 _Johan squealed in delight and clapped his hands._

" _Think I can be a great wizard like you one day, Papa?"_

" _I think you'll do any number of great things, if you choose to. Just keep in mind that the first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him. Surround yourself with the right people, and you'll always succeed."_

" _Well, I have you, and Papa Albus, and Mutti and Vati."_

" _That sounds like a winning army to me."_

 **...oOo...**

Gellert struggled to his feet, using the wall as leverage. His aging bones complained against the cold, but he stumbled to the window regardless. Blood dripped from his fingers, leaving amorphous splotches in his wake—an abstract expression of his soul.

The night was cloudless, and the tapestry of stars was broken only by the bars of his holding cell. It was his very own starry night, except there was no quaint, little village, no vestige of life. All he was left with was darkness and death as cypress trees loomed in the distance like living gargoyles.

What did he have to live for anyway? Gellert wanted to say nothing, because that would validate his desires. He could transform into an artist, and underneath the starry night, paint his very own allegory to life and death.

Gellert lifted his gaze to the stars, searching for nine stars in particular. They were there, dangling just over the horizon. Pegasus.

 **...oOo...**

 _The evening was chilly in anticipation of winter, but Johan had insisted. Of all the things he had done in his life, saying no to the boy was the hardest, so Gellert had no choice but to spread out a blanket and acquiesce to the demand. It was familiar, in a way, evoking warm memories of a time long ago of laying in the grass in a place two foolish, young men had desired to escape._

" _You know, I'm seven now. I'm practically an adult already," Johan said._

 _Gellert scoffed at the idea of such a young child being close to adulthood. The boy still had a lot of things to learn, many of them the hard way._

" _What is it you're after?" he asked._

" _I want a thestral."_

" _What would you do if you got one?"_

" _Take care of it, I swear. I'm old enough now. Mutti said we'd test my responsibility with an owl, and I took care of him just fine."_

" _A thestral's a far cry from an owl, and didn't Virgil break his wing a couple months ago?"_

" _That was an accident. He flew into my spell."_

" _You're not getting a thestral."_

 _Judging by the rustling grass, Gellert assumed Johan crossed his arms and was currently pouting._

 _The boy confirmed his suspicions when he griped, "Papa Albus would let me have a thestral."_

 _There was no doubt in Gellert's mind that that was true. Merlin knew how bad the old codger spoiled the boy._

" _If you really want a thestral you can keep forever, I know of one."_

" _Where is it?"_

 _Gellert raised his wand and pointed it toward the sky, using flagrate to connect nine stars over their heads._

" _That's not a thestral," Johan scoffed. "Mutti told me that's Pegasus."_

" _What if she's wrong? After all, they both look a lot like horses. What some call a pegasus, others might call a thestral. Whenever you look up, your thestral will be there, watching over you. Protecting you. Reminding you. What more could you want in a pet?"_

 _Johan was silent for several minutes as he thought about it, but Gellert could tell his determination was wavering._

" _I'll name him Geist, then. I don't mind sharing, Papa. He can be our thestral."_

 **...oOo...**

Gellert's reverie was shattered by a stream of colored sparks—green, red, yellow, orange, blue. They were in the near distance, at the edge of the forest that bordered Nurmengard.

Johan was there. Gellert could feel him. They were looking at the same stars underneath the same sky, even though they were worlds apart.

"Happy birthday, Johan," Gellert whispered, and a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. The emotion felt foreign, like something he had experienced once in a dream. What did he have to live for? One person. That was enough, even for a withered-up Dark Wizard.

It was true what they said about stars and hope and dreams. Gellert had forfeited his dreams long ago, but they still thrived within every beat of another's heart. It was for this reason, and this reason alone, that Gellert could find hope in the stars. It was only for Johan's sake that they still made him dream.

.

" _For my part, I know nothing with certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."_

 **...oOo...**

Johan looked toward the sky, tracing nine familiar stars. Could Papa see Geist from his window in the tower? Would he even remember, after all this time? Johan liked to think so on both accounts. He had been eight when the country celebrated the defeat of Dark Wizard Grindelwald, but it had been a tragic day in the Stein household.

Birthdays were the worst, especially his ninth when he realized that Papa wouldn't be there for the first time since he could remember. He had been a foolish child who thought himself an adult back then, pining over a father he was sure was lost to him forever. But that was a disservice to everything Papa had taught him.

So Johan had come, like he did every year on his birthday, to remind Papa that he hadn't given up on him, that he would never give up on him.

Johan raised his wand towards the sky and cast a non-verbal spell. Lights leapt from the end of it, vaulting towards the stars, sizzling like fireworks on their way up. It was a magnificent display, if he did say so himself. He had certainly inherited Papa Albus' flare for the dramatic, but at least it served him well, and it would hopefully remind Papa Gellert of everything he had, even when it seemed like he had nothing.

A wise man had once told Johan, " The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him," and he had been young and foolish enough to believe it. But it wasn't really true. What mattered most about a man was the lives that he touched. No one could rule forever, but if they were truly wise, they would embed their ideals in the hearts of others.

Johan believed that the world could change, whether it wanted to or not, and wizards would lead that change. Wizards _had_ to lead that change, because Muggles couldn't do it on their own. Even after everything, he believed in his father's dream, and when he looked at the stars, they still gave him hope.

* * *

 **Challenges:** The Hogwarts Talent Show round 2 (art), The OC Challenge round 1.

 **Prompts:**

(Situation) Your OC is a close friend/follower of Gellert Grindelwald

(Art) "Starry Night" by Vincent van Gogh

(Creature) Thestral

(Sentence) "The snow-covered grounds made the whole scene look like something out of a fairy tale."

(Quote) "The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him."

(Song) "Angels Take A Soul" by Fuel

 **Word Count:** 2,887


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